


For Ferelden!

by bramblefae



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 01:37:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1726412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bramblefae/pseuds/bramblefae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Battle of Ostagar from King Cailan's vantage point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Ferelden!

**Author's Note:**

> A tiny one shot for the June Challenge at the Dragon Age Fanfiction Writers Facebook page. The goal was to take a well known scene from the Dragon Age games and write it from the point of view of someone who was present but not the main character.

     I am scared shitless. But I'm also terribly excited. I wonder absently how often my father had to stand in front of an army and pretend he was nothing but ready to do battle.  
     He once told me that he wasn't a hero, just a damn lucky bloke.  
     'Father,' I think to myself, 'If you're not using it now, could I borrow that luck? Just for today?' I wonder if I'll ever stop talking to him in my head. Maker, I miss him. No time for that now, though.  
     Duncan and I stand together above the troops and I look over this army. My army. All these people are here because of me. Well, do try not to get them all killed, Cailan, would you?  
     As I wipe the rain out of my eyes, I look over at the horde of...creatures running toward us and I realize that I'm scared shitless again. I swallow, pull my sword out and give the commands. I am ready to run down there and kill some darkspawn. Oh! I almost forgot.  
     "FOR FERELDEN!!!"  
     There are so many of these nasty things. We can't have been here more than a few minutes and I've probably killed 20 of the 'spawn. I try to keep an eye on Duncan, and I see that the other wardens are as well. Then I remember he is their commander. I keep looking up at the top of the Tower of Ishal and I wonder if Alistair is up there, waiting for the signal. I hope he isn't too angry.  
     'Maker, keep an eye on him, would you?' I'm glad that Loghain's men are in position, and I wonder if he's afraid. Probably not.  
     These darkspawn just keep coming. I will certainly sleep well tonight. I look around for Duncan and see him in the middle of a group of darkspawn, so I run over and run several of them through, grinning at the old man. "Need a nap, Duncan?" I don't think he thinks I'm funny. In fact, he looks serious.  
     "Your Majesty, would it be too much to beg you to leave the field?" He shouted over the din of battle.  
     I am offended. "Yes!" They think I don't know how awful this is going to be before it's over with. But how in the Maker's name can I expect these men and women to stand out here in the pouring rain and possibly die for Ferelden if their king is not at least as willing. I shoot Duncan a dirty look and march off, sweeping my sword at knee level to take the legs off a darkspawn in my way.  
     The fighting is thicker now. Alistair should be lighting the beacon soon. We certainly need the reinforcements at this point. I feel like I am trying to be everywhere at once, yet I am too late more and more often. In a small break in the fighting, I stop to catch my breath and look around me. I see Duncan, elbow deep in darkspawn, and several of my men, as well as several grey wardens. There are so many down, though.  
     I look up at the tower again. Dammit, Alistair, where are you?!  
     I hear an ungodly noise behind me and I turn around. What in the Maker's name *is* that thing?! I see it knock Duncan aside and I don't even stop to think. I meet it with my sword up.

     Oh Maker, no.

     I suddenly remember my mother. Not very well, but I always wonder if she'd be proud of me.  
     I remember what Anora looked like when I met her. Pigtails and imperiousness. I was 10 and she was 11, and I thought she was the prettiest girl I'd ever met. I still think that.  
     I remember meeting Alistair. I asked Father when we left if he thought that tow-headed ragamuffin looked a bit like me, since that's what one of the servants said.  
     I remember my coronation. I didn't want to be king. Didn't want to lose father. Didn't want to be alone.  
     I remember Duncan coming to tell me about the Blight. Finally, I can maybe be the kind of King I promised my father I would be.  
     I tried to be the kind of king that my father was.

     Oh, Father.  
     I'm so sorry.

 


End file.
